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When a' they ettle at-their greatest wish,
JENNY. But poortith, Peggy, is the warst o'a';
PEGGY. May sic ill-luck befa' that silly she Wha has sic fears, for that was never me. Let fouk bode weel, and strive to do their best; Nae inair's required ; let Heaven mak out the rest. I've heard my honest uncle aften say, That lads should a' for wives that's virtuous pray; For the maist thrifty man could never get A weel-stored room, unless his wife wad let: Wherefore nocht shall be wanting on my part, To gather wealth to raise my shepherd's heart: Whate'er he wins, I'll guide wi' canny care, And win the vogue at market, tron, or fair, For balesome, clean, cheap, and sufficient ware. A flouk o'lambs, cheese, butter, and some woo, Shall first be sald to pay the laird his due; Syue a' behind 's our ain. Thus without fear, Wi’ love and rowth, we through the warld will steer; And when my Pate in bairns and gear grows rife, He'li bless the day he gat me for his wife.
JENNY. But what if some young giglet on the green, Wi’ dimpled cheeks and twa bewitching een, Should gar your Patie think his half-worn Meg, And her kenned kisses, hardly worth a feg?
PEGGY. Nae mair o' that--Dear Jenny, to be free, There's some men constanter in love than we: Nor is the ferly great, when nature kind Hast blest them wi' solidity o' mind. They'll reason calmly, and wi' kindness smile, When our short passions wad our peace beguile : Sae, whenso'er they slight their maiks at hame, It's ten to ane the wives are maist to blame. Then I'll employ wi' pleasure a' iny art To keep him cheerfu', and secure his heart. At e'en, when he come weary frae the hill, I'll ha'e a' things made ready to his will; Iu winter, when he toils through wind and rain, A bleezing ingle, and a clean hearthstane; And soon as he flings by his plaid and staff. The seething pat's be ready to tak aff; Clean h: g-a-bag I'li spread upon his board, And serve him wi' the best we ci'n afford; Good-humour and white bigonets shall be
Guards to my face to keep his love for me.
JENNY. A dish o' married love right soon grows cauld,
PEGGY But we'll grow auld thegither, and n'er find
ter sense has fairly won the field.
DRAMATISTS. The dramatic literature of this period was, like its general poetry, polished and artificial. In tragedy, the highest name is that of Southerne, who may claim, with Otway, the power of touching the passions, yet his language is feeble compared with that of the great dramatists, and his general style low and unimpressive. Addison 'Cato' is more properly a classical poem than a drami-as cold and less vigorous than the tragedies of Jonson. lu comedy, the national taste is apparent in its faithful and witty delineations of polished !! of which Wycherley and Congreve had set the example, and wbich was well continued by Farquhar and Vanbrugh. Beaumont and Fletcher first introduced what may be called comedies of intrigue, borrowed from the Spanish drama; and the innovation appears to have been congenial to the English taste, for it still pervades our comic literature. The vigorous exposure of the immorality of the stage by Jeremy Collier, and the essays of Steele and Aduison, le proving the taste and moral feeling of the public, a partial relormation took place of those nuisances of the drama which the Restoran tion had introduced. The Master of the Revels, by whom all plays had to be licensed, also aided in this work of retrenchment; but glance at even those improved plays of the reign of William II1. and his successors, will shew that ladies frequenting the theatres bad still occasion to wear masks, which Colley Tibber says they usually did or the production of a new play.
THOMAS SOUTHERNE. THOMAS SOUTHERNE (1659-1746) may be classed either with the last or the present period. His life was long, extended, and prosper ous. He was a native of Dublin, but came to Eugland, and enrone, himself in the Middle Temple as a student of law. He afterwards entered the army, and held the rank of captain under the Duke u
York, at the time of Monmoutli's insurrection. His latter days were spent in retirement, and in the possession of a considerable fortune.
Southerne wrote ten plays, but only two exhibit his characteristic powers, namely 'Isabella, or the Fatal Marriage,' and 'Oroonoko.' The latter is founded on an actual occurrence; Oroonoko, an African prince, having been stolen from his native kingdoin of Angola, and carried to one of the West India islands. The impassioned grandeur of Oroonoko's sutferings, his burst of horror and indignation at the slave-trade, and his unhappy passion for Imoinda, are powerful and pathetic. In the following scene, the hero and heroine unexpectedly meet after a long absence :
OROONOKO. My soul steals from my body through my eyes ;
Oroo. If you but mock me with her image here:
[She looks upon him and falls into a swoon; he runs to her.
[Kisses her. Imoinda ! oh, thy Oroonoko calls.
IMOINDA (recovering). My Oroonoko! Oh! I can't believe
[Stares at him, Oh! if I know myself, I cannot be mistaken.
IMO. All, indeed,
Oroo. Take, take me all; inquire into my heart
IMO. Oh! I believe,
OROO. Imoinda! Oh! this separation
Than you were ever to me. You appear
To guide me on my way to happiness:
OROO. That would require
IMO. How, how shall I receive you ? how be worthy
Oroo. Let the fools
(Eteunt. Mr. Hallam says that Southerne was the first English writer who denounced (in this play) the traffic in slaves and the cruelties of their West Indian bondage. This is an honour which should never be omitted in any mentiou of the dramatist. Isabella' is more correct and regular than Oroonoko,' and the part of the heroine affords scope for a tragic actress, scarcely inferior in pathos to Belvidera. Otway, however, has more depth of passion, and more vigorous ac. lineation of character. The plot of Isabella' is simple. In abject distress, and believing her husband, Biron, to be dead, Isabellil 18 hurried into a second marriage. Biron returns, and the distress o the lieroine terminates in madness and death. Comic scenes are m. terspersed throughout Southerne's tragedies, which, though they re. lieve the sombre colouring of the main action and interest of the piece, are sometimes misplaced and unpleasant.
Return of Biron.
A Chamber-Enter ISABELLA.
Has raised the ghost of pleasure to my fears;
Isa. I had forgot; pray, let me speak with him.
To bring me back again ;
And let me, and rise forgot me que
Enter BIRON—(ISABELLA looking at him.)
BIRON. Have you forgot me quite ?
BIR. Then farewell my disguise, and my misfortunes !
[He goes to her ; she shrinkus, and faints Isa. Ha!
BIR. Oh! come again;
Isa. Where have I been? Why do you keep him from me?
BIR. Live ever in these arms.
Isa. But pardon me :
BIR. Thou everlasting goodness!
Isa. Answer me:
Bir. My best life! at leisure all.